THE CALL OF DUTY - FOR THOSE IN PERIL ON THE SEA

 

Being a man of a certain age, I have always been a great admirer of the generation ahead of me and there resoluteness in the face of adversity.

Their resilience and fortitude during the Second World War when ordinary men and women donned the many and various uniforms of the armed forces and stood up to be counted.

In the beginning it was a voluntary system and you had some level of choice as to what arm of the forces you wanted to go into but once you chose your preferred service there was no guarantee that you would get it and once in you had no control as to what you would end up doing.

Now obviously some roles were more dangerous than others but nonetheless I still think they were very brave.

There wasn’t really a cushy number to be had you were all in the firing line to some degree.

And it wasn’t just those in military uniform who risked their lives.

Police, Firemen, ARP, fire watchers, Observers and the merchant marine were just as brave.

 

If it were me joining up back then I’m not sure which service I would have preferred.

But whatever service you ended up with or the role within it there were some more hazardous than others.

Some so hazardous that it was like wearing a target along with the uniform.

The peril that some of them placed themselves under was truly astonishing and there are a number who deserve special mention so I have picked one example from each service and one civilian occupation to illustrate the courage that was common place.

 

The Merchant Navy

 

I was spoilt for choice in the civilian occupation, the mere fact that you are unarmed and for the most part non-combatants qualifies as brave in war time but I think my candidates are beyond brave.

 

If you joined the Royal Navy in wartime you could rightly expect to face danger and discomfort no matter what sized vessel you found yourself in.

Battling with enemy warships, risking submarine attack or Dive bombing went with the territory.

In short they were a highly trained body of men manning state of the art vessels.

I certainly wouldn’t want to diminish the image of the Senior Service and the life of a Sailor was certainly hazardous enough but my admiration is with the Merchant Seaman.

 

These men were often ineligible to serve in the armed forces either because of age of fitness yet they risked their lives on a regular basis in order to deliver vital materials to our beleaguered island

The Merchantmen consisted of vessels of every size some as big as a heavily armed Battleship, physically and literary as big a target as a warship, but without the means to defend yourself apart from light antiaircraft defences.

Crossing a vast ocean like the Atlantic in a convoy, carrying vital supplies for the home front in the foulest of conditions at the mercy of the elements and the wolf packs of hunting U-boats.

 

These were brave men indeed who frequently ran the gauntlet on our behalf and when they had a ship sunk beneath them there first thought was to sign on with another ship.

HERE ENDETH THE FIRST LESSON

 

I think war is probably God's way

Of teaching us all a lesson I’d say

But it won’t be a lesson in theology

It’s more likely a to be in geography

SAVIORS

 

When soldiers stand neath flags unfurled

Before going to war to do the biz

Be sure before they’re sent to save the world

They’re happy with the world the way it is

MILITARY LAW # 2

 

The buddy system is essential

To surviving in combat

Because it gives the enemy

Somebody else to shoot at

CRIMSON SNOW

 

Each November

We remember

At the Royal Albert Hall

And we remember

 

With dignity

With respect

They stand in silence

And we remember

 

In silence

Petals fall

Like crimson snowflakes

And we remember

 

Gently falling

They settle

Upon hat and tunic

And we remember

 

Each petal

Once a life

Floats in silent homage

And we remember

 

Red poppies

Springing eternally

From the bloodied fields

And we remember

 

Falling petals

Falling in millions

To recall the fallen

And we remember

THE BANASTRE REBELLION

 

St Crispin’s day has been

A bloody day in history

Famous for being a day 

When battles were fought

High in the cost of life

Among these, in 1315

A century before Agincourt,

Was the Banastre Rebellion

Against the Earl of Lancaster

When disaffected Knights

Adam Banastre, Henry de Lea

And William Bradshaw,

Led an attack on Liverpool Castle

THE MILITARY WAY

 

The problem with taking the easy way out is that the enemy has already mined it

Having someone take a shot at you, and miss is the most satisfying feeling

Every retreat is a tactical withdrawal

Make sure you are not conspicuous in the combat zone it draws fire

Incoming fire has the right of way

Learn never to volunteer for anything

If your advance is going well, you are walking into an ambush

The only time suppressive fire works is when it is used on abandoned positions

Accurate incoming enemy fire is only surpassed by incoming friendly fire

Remember friendly fire ain't

You know the quartermaster has only two sizes, too large and too small

When you can be seen by your sergeant you, can be seen by the enemy

Any time you are in advance of your own positions, the artillery will fall short

You know that no battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy

MILITARY LAW # 1

There is an old law of combat

If you heed this you’ll go far

Never ever share a foxhole

With anyone braver than you are

REMEMBRANCE FOR UNCLE JOHN (John Holt 1887-1916)

 

“Your country needs you”

We heard Kitchener say to us

We took the Kings shilling

Without any fuss

 

Lads and Pals all marched

Crowds cheering jubilantly

Then crossed the English Channel

To halt the advancing enemy

 

The distant we gain in battle

Against the loss of a comrade

Is measured in inches at best

As we play out Hague’s Charade

 

We came as proud young men

To halt the invaders advance

Only to live and die

In the mud of western France

 

In the cloying mud of France

Once rich and fertile soil

No longer appears like earth

And now is as slippery as oil

 

The mud colours everything

Even we try and fail to stay clean 

Mud has consumed the landscape

And hides the dead unseen

 

Subtle hints of another time

Some old Tree stumps remain

A jagged piece of wall sometimes

Will it ever be normal again?

 

Trenches have become home

Trench foot and rats our companion’s

Shellfire is our music hall

Mortars and rifles our musicians

 

We escape the daily horror

But only within our own minds

Where we explore familiar places

Far beyond the wars confines

 

The enemy are much like us

Their thoughts take them away

To a peaceful quiet land

On a peaceful quiet day

 

I sit in my muddy trench

My eyes closed to all but my wife

My sweet and beloved Tilly

The most important part of my life

 

Many fallen comrades lie

Where they fell upon the field

They saw no sense to fight

But still they refused to yield

 

After three long years

In the vile and muddy hell

I climbed out of my trench

And with my comrades fell

THE BATTLE OF HENDERSON FIELD

 

St Crispin’s day has been

A bloody day in history

Famous for being a day 

When battles were fought

High in the cost of life

Among these, in 1942

The Battle of Henderson Field

In the Pacific theatre

Of World War Two

In and around Guadalcanal

In the Solomon Islands.

A land, sea, and air battle

Of the Pacific campaign

Between the forces

Of Japan and the United States

 

ON THE BLOODY FIELD OF BATTLE

 

Bright burnished copper shields

Shined bright as gold in the midday sun

Spear points glinted in the sun

Like a myriad of dancing fire flies

Silver lights blinked from polished

Buckles and embellishments

The clink of metal on metal

The snort of impatient horses

The barking of impatient sergeants

Leather creaked and strained

On soldier and beast

All the sights brought back to mind

Vivid remembrances

And the sounds spoke a familiar tongue

To the battle hardened

Anticipation dried the mouth

Almost as much as the dust

Banners fluttered lightly in the breeze

Some standing as tall as trees

And carrion eaters waited unseen

For the coming banquet

Then the battle commenced

With an ensuing cacophony

Many died quickly, painlessly

Not even seeing the fatal blow

Equally many died slowly

In agony from their wounds

Others lay on the bloody field

For hours and survived

Only to fight and die another day

The victors write the history

Of the bloody days events

The truth also lies dying

On the bloody field of battle

THE TREATY

 

The eleventh hour

The T’s were crossed,

And the I’s were dotted,

The eleventh day

Books were balanced,

Of the butcher’s tally

The eleventh month

Seeds were sown,

For the Second World War

By the French at Versailles

ON THE BATTLE GROUND

 

Soldiers stand in contemplation

Young faces etched in concentration

NCO’s keep them holding steady

 

A mounted officer comes prancing

Upon his steed nervously dancing

Then comes the order to be ready

 

nervpously awaiting engagement

Standing firm for the regiment

Then artillery is exchanged

 

Just standfast and hold the line

Just do that lads and all is fine

Then the bugles tune is changed

 

The air fills with acrid smoke

And men must stand and choke

After the muskets flash

 

Across the open ground

The heavy horses pound

And then the sabres clash

 

The lancers Bodies tumble

As the legs of horses crumple

And lie on the battleground

 

Wounded cut and bleeding

Their Precious life receding

The lucky die without a sound

 

Remember the fallen brothers

Dying for you and others

Remember the forgotten

 

On foreign fields they lay

Buried deep beneath the clay

Remember the forgotten

 

Remember the forgotten

Beneath the earth and rotten

They’re heroes one and all

 

So tell the valiant story

Let us remember them in glory

For those who stand and fall

BREATH PLUMES IN THE CHILL

Breath plumes in the chill

Of the morning still

When suddenly, harsh whistles blow

Shrilly breaking the silence

And then the order comes

It’s time to advance

So, over the top go the lads

Clambering out of the trench

To stride with purpose

Towards the enemy line

When the machine guns

Speak their deadly greeting

And their body’s fall

On the scarred

And blood-stained land

THE SECOND BATTLE OF EL ALAMEIN

 

St Crispin’s day has been

A bloody day in history

Famous for being a day 

When battles were fought

High in the cost of life

Among these, in 1942

The Second Battle of El Alamein,

The Eighth Army offensive, led by

Lieutenant-General Montgomery

Ending in an Allied victory

Which proved to be

The beginning of the end

Of the Western Desert Campaign.

Eliminating the Axis threat

To Egypt, the Suez Canal

And the Middle Eastern

And the Persian oil fields

 

HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - ODETTE SANSOM HALLOWES GC, MBE

 

She was French born

But served as an agent for the SOE

In April 1943 “Lise”

Was betrayed to the Germans

Along with her future husband

Peter Churchill

And The SD interrogated them at

84 Avenue Foch, their HQ in Paris

Though tortured with red hot pokers

They kept to their cover story

That he was both her husband

And Winston Churchill’s nephew

Which seemed to do the trick

With confirmation from London

But she was condemned to death in June 1943

But was transferred to Germany

To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück

The Churchill’s nephew story stuck

And when the allies got close

The Camp commandant Fritz Suhren

Drove Sansom to the allied lines

To surrender to the Americans

Hoping to save his own neck

Which didn’t work

Odette testified in 1946

At the Hamburg Ravensbrück Trials

And he was hanged in 1950

Odette was subsequently awarded

A British George Cross, an MBE and

A French Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur

THE LAST DAWN

 

On the horizon the eastern sky was lightening

But the over cast skies were not brightening

The dawn had little effect on the Grey sky

It was certainly a miserable morning to die

 

The sounds of the long range guns was absent

And the chorus of birdsong had not been vent

Just the cloud scudding across the murky sky

It was certainly a peaceful morning to die

 

The young soldier was led out in the silence

To face the firing squad to serve his sentence

The last cigarette signaled the end was nigh

What an undignified manner in which to die

 

The young man wanted to face his fate bravely

If he must die then he would do so with dignity

He would meet his maker with head held high

Though it was such an ignominious way to die

 

He did not run away and he was not a deserter

Nor a coward and could not be called traitor

But still he stood blindfold neath the dawn sky

In battle would have been a better way to die

 

His crime was to be blown over by an explosion

To lose his weapon and to suffer a concussion

His only visible injury was a cut above his eye

Its ironic really he was very lucky not to die

 

He was found wandering out of no mans land

Half senseless and with no weapon in his hand

His only injury was just that cut above his eye

It really is ironic how lucky he was not to die

 

Little did he know as he marched proudly away

What would become of him on a cold Grey day

When he kissed his love and then said goodbye

Little did he know how he would come to die

 

Crying out in fear is what filled him with dread

Before the shot was heard he was already dead

A new dawn breaking under the slate Grey sky

Why exactly did this young soldier have to die?

 

History would show that he was without blame

A young soldier no longer associated with shame

In the war to end all wars this you cannot deny

To be shot at dawn was a ridiculous way to die